


All the forces that kick ass are invisible

by Mademoisellesnowflake



Series: The Musketeers Modern AU in Paris [1]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Aramis is clearly not okay, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, I'm not really sure what I was thinking while writing this, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, What the hell me, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 18:41:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10996713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mademoisellesnowflake/pseuds/Mademoisellesnowflake
Summary: Aramis, a coroner in Paris, has lived in self-loathing for the past five years after being the sole survivor of a massacre in the French county of Savoy. After having to shoot his good friend, he feels like nothing matters anymore. Will anyone be able to turn his head around before he does something that can't be reversed?





	All the forces that kick ass are invisible

**Author's Note:**

> In other words: what the hell me? I have no idea where the idea came from (except maybe my daydreaming problem caused it) but now that it's written, might as well publish it. The title is a quote from David Mitchell's book Cloud Atlas (that also has an amazing film version) which felt somehow fitting to the story.
> 
> Anyway, I feel quite sorry for Aramis but I hope you can enjoy the story...

Aramis d’Herblay, who was working as a coroner in Paris, usually enjoyed his job very much. He didn’t have to interact with too many living people and those who were dead were usually completely unknown to him. The only time he had had to perform an autopsy on someone, it had been Marsac, Aramis’ friend whom Aramis had been forced to shoot after he had –

No, Aramis wouldn’t think of Marsac, that would do him no good. He returned his thoughts to his friends; Athos, Porthos and d’Artagnan, whom he was spending the Friday evening with. Porthos had suggested an impromptu Lord of the Rings marathon for the evening and Aramis – being the bookworm he used to be as a child – instantly jumped in and decided that Athos and d’Artagnan should tag along as well.

Aramis had originally met Porthos by accident. When Aramis had begun his work as a coroner, a young police officer called Porthos had all but run to Aramis’ office asking about a corpse that had just arrived at the coroner’s office. Athos had soon followed, telling Porthos that the coroner could not have performed the autopsy just yet; the corpse had been discovered only an hour ago. Athos had almost frozen after seeing Aramis; he had probably recognised the new coroner from the news reports of –

Why couldn’t Aramis’ mind keep itself away from that dreadful night five years before? He wanted one happy and peaceful evening with his closest friends in Porthos’ 8th-floor flat without his mind taking him back to that horrid place where he’d been too much lately. He just wanted to curl next to Porthos and relax for a bit…

“Do dwarf women really have beards?” Porthos asked halfway through the _Two Towers_. “Or is Aragorn just lying?”

“They do”, Aramis told and smirked at Porthos from where he was cosily curled up at Porthos’ side. “That’s why in _Desolation of Smaug_ Legolas asks Glóin if the dwarf in his locket is his brother even though it’s his wife…”

“That’s kind of cruel from Legolas”, d’Artagnan mumbled from the other corner of the sofa.

“It is”, Aramis said, “but in the books, there is no mention of him meeting a dwarf until in the Council of Elrond so I guess he wouldn’t know…”

“Quiet there, we’re trying to watch the film”, Athos said from between Porthos and d’Artagnan. Porthos laughed at the comment, making that deep rumble in his chest where Aramis’ head was leaning. Oh, how he loved that sound…

Loved?

_Oh hells_ , Aramis thought. _Of all the possible times to realise that I just_ had _to realise it today!_

It wasn’t like Aramis _wanted_ love. Hell, he didn’t think he’d _deserve_ to be loved after everything that had happened to him, especially after Marsac and that terrible incident at the camp in Savoy. He had planned to end it all early on the next morning while the others slept. After he had had to shoot Marsac to protect the politician who used to be the chief of the security company he and Marsac had worked for, he had felt like there was no purpose in his life anymore.

But then again, he could still end everything without ever telling Porthos about his feelings. After all both love and the gravity that would help him to end everything were two forces that were invisible. Kick-ass, yes but in the end, invisible. So Porthos would never have to see either. He could just remember that one happy evening the four had shared and possibly his letter to the three police officers who he’d come to consider as his friends.

“Everything alright there, Aramis?” Athos asked. “You’d usually at least mutter angrily about Aragorn falling down that cliff; you’re awfully quiet now.”

“You just told him to be quiet”, Porthos said, “make up your mind, Athos.”

“You clearly haven’t watched Lord of the Rings with him before.” Athos chuckled. “He just _can’t_ stay quiet about the mistakes in the films; he loves that book so much that he just _needs_ to whine about the mistakes.”

“Just thought I’d be calmer about them today”, Aramis muttered. He wasn’t really even paying attention to the film, he was just listening Porthos’ heartbeats and trying to hold on to everything he could sense until the next morning. He wanted to remember his friends being as happy as possible although he wasn’t sure there was any kind of afterlife for him – his faith in God had slowly been fading ever since Savoy.

“Even when Haldir dies?” d’Artagnan piped up.

“He isn’t supposed to die!” Aramis exclaimed angrily and folded his arms over his chest. “He isn’t even supposed to be in Helm’s deep in the first place!”

“That’s more like our Aramis”, d’Artagnan said with a laugh. “You hadn’t been eaten by anything weird after all.”

_Oh, but I have_ , Aramis thought. _I have been swallowed by the ever-present darkness of Savoy…_

The four retuned to watching the film in silence until the scene where Haldir died; they had to pause the film for a moment so Aramis could give a quick lecture about how Haldir was _not_ in Helm’s deep and couldn’t have died there. They then resumed to watching the film until the end when Athos and d’Artagnan decided to go get some snacks from the corner store while Aramis and Porthos stayed to listen to the ending song.

_I never thought I could identify with Gollum’s song of all the songs in the world…_ Aramis thought. _I should probably be worried about myself…_

Aramis left out a soft chuckle at the thought. If his friends knew what he was going to do, they’d hate him. And yet somehow, he was curled up right next to Porthos who was playing with his unruly curls. Porthos’ presence next to Aramis somehow felt so warm and kind that he almost wanted to stay…

“What got you laughing there?” Porthos asked softly.

“Just thought you’re a bit like Sam”, Aramis lied. “Warm and kind. Whoever has you for a friend is very lucky…”

“Jesus Aramis, you’re sounding really weird”, Porthos said. “You sure everything’s alright?”

“Yes”, Aramis lied again. _No, everything is so wrong. Stop me before it’s too late, Porthos!_ “Why would anything not be right? I’m cosy right here and were watching my favourite films with my favourite friends. Nothing could be better.”

“You’re never as straightforward as you’re now”, Porthos mumbled. “But if you say everything’s good, then it is. Or at least I sure hope everything is.”

Athos and d’Artagnan chose that moment to get back with some chocolate and popcorn and a few beers for Athos. (“At least he doesn’t drink as much as he used to”, Porthos mumbled.) They began watching the third film as soon as a new bowl of popcorn was done and Aramis resumed to listening to Porthos’ heartbeats.

Soon it all would be over…

* * *

It was 6 A.M. on the following morning. No one would be awake yet, except for Aramis who had finally finished gathering his belongings to the least inconveniencing place: the corner of Porthos’ kitchen table. On top of the pile, there was Aramis’ apology letter to his three friends and by extension Treville and Constance who would be affected as well since they considered him as their friend for some reason. He couldn’t really understand why they’d picked him out of all the people; he was just Aramis, nothing special.

Aramis walked to the balcony door and opened it. He breathed in the fresh air of a Parisian morning and gazed at the Eiffel tower. Porthos’ balcony was truly magical; he could always see the Eiffel tower from it. It may have been ugly and kind of useless but for some odd reason Aramis really liked it. It always reminded him that Paris was his home and for some reason it comforted him immensely.

Aramis would have rather wanted Porthos’ face to be the last thing he’d see before the end but the Eiffel Tower would do just fine. He would just admire the view a bit longer before jumping; no one would be able to stop him since no one was awake yet. Everyone was sleeping and Aramis actually felt a bit bad that someone would discover his lifeless body on the street and it would probably ruin their day.

“What the hell”, said Porthos’ voice from the kitchen. Aramis eyes widened and his heart started beating faster. He had no time to enjoy the view after all. He swung his leg over the railing of the balcony and leaned forward when he suddenly heard Porthos shouting his name.

Aramis’ wrist was grasped by a pair of bigger and stronger hands before he could actually fall. He looked up with wide eyes and saw Porthos looking back down at him with an equally wide-eyed expression.

“Don’t worry, love, I’ll get you back up here”, Porthos whispered and turned his head sideways to yell: “Athos! Athos, get here right now! I need help! D’Artagnan!”

Aramis was trying to tell Porthos to let go of him, to let him fall but he couldn’t open his mouth enough to make a noise. He could only think of that one little word that Porthos had said so effortlessly.

_“Love.”_

“Don’t you dare to tell me to let go Aramis”, Porthos whispered. “I love you, dammit, I love you so much and I’m not letting you kill yourself!”

_“Love…”_

Suddenly another pair of hands grabbed Aramis’ hand and arm and started pulling. Aramis could hear Athos cursing like a sailor which was something Athos only did when he was either in serious pain or in danger of losing something very important.

When Aramis was back on the balcony, he felt a sharp pain on his cheek. Athos had slapped him. Athos then proceeded to grab Aramis’ face so that Aramis was forced to look at Athos’ furious eyes.

“I have already lost one brother”, Athos hissed, “and I’m _NOT_ going to lose you! Nothing you say will make me believe that whatever’s haunting you can’t be cured. Nothing! Do you understand?”

Aramis could only nod shakily and Athos hugged him with so much force that Aramis couldn’t breathe for a second. He could feel Porthos’ eyes on his back and he dreaded the moment he would have to turn and face Porthos. He didn’t want to face the fact that if Porthos loved him back, he would never be able to end his life. He would never be able to leave Porthos if Porthos really loved him.

“Let’s get back inside”, Porthos whispered. Athos let go of Aramis and led him back inside Porthos’ apartment. Everything was so suffocating and quiet that Aramis felt like he couldn’t really breathe. Then he was suddenly enveloped in another pair of arms that were so warm and so strong.

“It’s alright now Aramis”, Porthos whispered from over Aramis’ head. “It’s alright, I love you… Everything’s alright now…”

In the end, Porthos’ soft and loving words were the only thing needed to break the camel’s back. All the boundaries Aramis had kept tightly shut for the past five years shattered as Aramis crumbled down on the floor. He couldn’t stop the tears once they’d started and honestly, he didn’t even want to. It was the first time in weeks that he’d actually managed to feel something. The cuts in his arms had done nothing to his numbness; the physical pain hadn’t been enough to make him feel emotions. He felt someone rolling up his sleeves and he tried to pull them back down; he didn’t want to feel any more ashamed of his weakness than he already was.

“Aramis”, d’Artagnan’s voice said. “Can you stand up? It would probably feel a bit more comfortable sitting on the sofa…”

Aramis shook his head miserably as he continued sobbing. He just wanted to curl in on himself and never see his friends’ faces again as he felt so embarrassed over his outburst. His tears eventually subsided and his breathing evened out and when he looked up, he saw Porthos kneeling in front of him.

“Let’s dry your face”, Porthos said calmly as he handed Aramis a paper towel, “and let’s get you on that sofa. D’Artagnan has made some cocoa for all of us so we can sit down and you can talk if you want to.”

Aramis nodded shakily and wiped his face. He then let Porthos help him stand up – he honestly didn’t feel like his shaking legs would carry him – and lead him to the sofa in the living room. Athos was already sitting on the sofa when Porthos slowly lowered Aramis down on the sofa and sat next to him. D’Artagnan handed a cup of cocoa to both of them before sitting down as well.

“Do you want to explain what got you into this situation?” Athos asked wearily.

“Do you remember that massacre that happened five years ago in the county of Savoy?” Aramis asked quietly. When no one answered, he continued: “There had been a training camp of a private security company when two men opened fire at the sleeping men. There were 20 dead, one missing and one injured –” Aramis inhaled suddenly “– the one injured was me.”

“I remember reading the newspapers”, Athos said. “If I remember correctly, the name for the injured was René d’Herblay…”

“That’s my first name”, Aramis said. “My mother always called me Aramis so it stuck and I’ve been going by it ever since I was a teen… Anyway, the one who went missing was my friend Marsac who I assumed had died or left France for good. However, he resurfaced about a month ago during Louis Bourbon’s speech held for his election campaign… He was the man who opened fire at Bourbon…”

“The one you shot with my pistol”, Athos muttered as the pieces finally connected with each other. “Oh Aramis…”

“Why didn’t you say anything about it to us?” d’Artagnan asked. “Did you ever talk about any of that to anyone?”

“After the massacre, I talked to a company psychologist for a few times”, Aramis told. “But I felt that he couldn’t really help me with all the self-loathing I was feeling… So I quit my job there and used my medical degree to become a coroner because I wasn’t sure I would be able to deal with living people who were bleeding…”

Aramis could feel Porthos’ arm around his shoulders and he leaned into the warmth radiating from Porthos. Porthos kissed the top of Aramis’ head and Aramis’ eyes watered again. He still had to tell Porthos about his feelings which felt like too huge of a task to complete.

“You need to talk to a psychologist about all this”, Athos said. “We’ll find you a good one and we’ll sit there with you if you need support. We just want you to recover… How have you even survived these past five years?”

“Barely”, Aramis answered with a hollow laugh. “I’ve wanted to kill myself so many times I can’t even remember…”

“Thank god you didn’t go through it before we managed to stop you”, d’Artagnan whispered. “Thank god…”

“How about d’Artagnan and I go get some croissants for breakfast from that boulangerie we saw yesterday?” Athos asked after a pause. “We all need something to eat and d’Artagnan will whine if I get a wrong kind of croissant for him.”

“I will not!” d’Artagnan snorted and rolled his eyes but followed Athos nonetheless. “Will you two manage here?”

“We will”, Porthos told. “I will look after Aramis so you better get something good for us.”

“Porthos?” Aramis asked after Athos and d’Artagnan had left and the two were left alone.

“What is it?” Porthos asked. He had started playing with Aramis’ hair again which was making Aramis more and more relaxed.

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I would love some feedback! :D I will be able to drag my friend who usually gives me all the feedback into the fandom next week but before that I'd love to hear what all of you think of this! :D


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